


A Simple Instruction To Follow

by chimneythunder



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), McFly
Genre: Aliens, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Gen, M/M, Sillyness, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimneythunder/pseuds/chimneythunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dougie Poynter is the Eleventh Doctor's companion. A short detail of one of their adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Instruction To Follow

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Dougie Poynter entirely for this. He posted up a picture on twitter of him and Matt Smith and suddenly, my entire feed was filled with "OMG DOUGIE AND THE DOCTOR!!" And so, I settled down to write this. Literally written in 5 hours, it was supposed to be a drabble but then I just kept writing...

“Whatever you do, don’t roll your sleeves up.”

It was one simple instruction the Doctor had given him. _One._

And of course, in typical companion-fashion, Dougie had completely ignored it.

The Doctor winced and looked out into the arena. Any second now, Dougie was going to appear in it...

The trip had been intended as a nice, fun day out. A quick visit to the 8th Star Colisuius Galaxy, viewing the sights of the city and trying the cuisine, etc etc. All the touristy things that somehow, the Doctor never quite managed to do whenever he tried to show Dougie a new planet. There always seemed to be some kind of trouble brewing and lurking and for reasons unknown to even the Time Lord, said trouble would being going off just after he arrived, and then he had to step in and save the day. Again. 

Dougie said he was “cool” with having to constantly run for his life, but the Doctor wasn’t convinced.

“It’s because you’ve never experienced a nice, normal day,” the Doctor explained, setting the coordinates on the TARDIS. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on!”

Dougie was sitting crossed legged on the drivers seat, resting his chin in his hands with his elbows on his knees.

“I like adventure!” he protested with a grin. “Like that one last week, on the planet of the whatserthing with the thingy of evil! That was pretty fun...”

The Doctor looked around the central pillar and frowned at the human.

“You know! The one with the green girl who’d swallowed the remote control!” Dougie explained.

“It wasn’t a remote control, it was a partial particle neutraliser, Dougie!!”

“Yeah, that thing.” Dougie shrugged, like the name mix up was that trivial.

“And if memory serves, you were nearly killed when she pointed it at you –”

“With her intestines! How cool is that?! Like, she could totally control that thing from inside her stomach!!”

The Doctor winced and rubbed his face. He could feel the motherload of all headaches coming on.

“OK, first of all, her species don’t even have intestines, they just have incredibly powerful stomachs with very flexible muscles that they use for digestion and secondly –”

“And then she exploded,” Dougie interrupted. He was staring off into space dreamily, lost in the memory.

There was a pause.

“Well, her finger slipped,” The Doctor grumbled eventually.

He could remember the hissy fit the TARDIS threw when they’d trapsed back inside, covered head-to-toe in green gunk and alien innards. She was not impressed...

Dougie, of course, had thought it was “awesome.”

Sometimes, the Doctor wondered about Dougie. He had the body of a man alright but the brain of a six year-old crossed with a golden retriever at the best of times. The Doctor was still partly convinced that Dougie had been involved in an alien abduction at some point in his life and had his brain scrambled as a result.

“Look, I just think you should try and experience some kind of normality in the universe, even if it’s just once!” The Doctor said. He’d settled on the 8th Star Colisuius Galaxy because he remembered Dougie had a bit of a thing for the Romans and the people of the Colisuius Galaxy (which was actually slightly misleadingly named, as it was really just a single planet) were as close to the human history of Ancient Rome but with all the perks of the future and interglacial travel, such as working electricity and lightsabers. The whole planet was a massive tourist trap and played up to this as much as possible, which was why the Doctor had chosen it. It’d be fun. It’d be safe.

“Oh, one more thing,” the Doctor said, with a glance over to Dougie to make sure the human’s skin was covered as they were about to head out the TARDIS doors. “Whatever you do, don’t roll your sleeves up; they’ve got a bit of a thing about tattoos here.”

Dougie raised one eyebrow but said nothing. The Doctor had assumed at the time that that meant Dougie had understood him and was going to obey this incredibly simple instruction.

And for the first half of the day, things had been OK. They’d looked around the old markets and done some shopping; The Doctor was delighted to discover a fez stall, much to Dougie’s chagrin (“Dude, Fez’s?! Really?!” “Shut up. Fez’s are cool.”) and Dougie got a gift for one of his friend’s back on Earth (“Err, Dougie, I don’t think that’s appropria... I mean... uh... that’s a... uh...” “Buttplug made out of a fossilised alien penis? I know!! Harry’s going to love it!”)

They’d stopped in on a concert as well. It was just a little local group of musicians but the Doctor had quickly discovered when he first invited him on board the TARDIS that Dougie had a bit of a thing for live music. They’d been to so many gigs since Dougie had arrived that the Doctor had lost count; Dougie didn’t care who was playing or even what the genre was as, in his own words, it was “music from a different world, dude! How awesome is that?!”

A lot of the time, the Doctor would have to drag Dougie away from buying yet another random alien instrument. He’d already filled his bedroom with about fifty different kinds of basses from various galaxies and time periods. Lately, Dougie had been going on about “getting some great ideas for the next album” too. The Doctor vaguely remembered that Dougie did something in music back on Earth as his job but it sounded pretty boring to be honest.

Afterwards, just before they were about to head back to the TARDIS, the Doctor couldn’t resist popping in to see the Prime Minister, just to say hi. He’d gotten the man out a spot of bother during his re-election a few years back and they’d been on friendly terms ever since.

“... and it’d be rude for me to be in town and not say hello!” the Doctor explained.

Dougie nodded, clutching his bag with the buttplug in it.

“Come on!” said the Doctor, grabbing Dougie’s hand and pulling him towards the Palace doors. He was about to go straight through when they were stopped by a rather large security guard.

“Are you expected?” the guard asked.

“Well, no. But I’m the Doctor and this is Dougie Poynter; we’re just popping in to say hello to the Prime Minister. Is he in?”

The security guard blinked a few times. Clearly, he wasn’t used to people just ‘popping in.’

“I’m sure if you tell him who I am, he’ll let me up,” said the Doctor, doing that reassuring but authoritative voice that Dougie had tried so many times to imitate but failed miserably.

“I’ll – I’ll just check,” said the security guard, sounding a little bit thrown. He mumbled something into his walkie-talkie (“They use walkie-talkies here?!” Dougie whispered incredulously. “What happened to high-tech and telepathic aliens?!”) and sure enough –

“Yup, the Prime Minister says it’s alright for you to go up.”

“Excellent, thank you!” said the Doctor cheerfully brushing past. Dougie followed but was stopped by the security guard suddenly blocking his way.

“He’s not allowed,” said the guard with a nod towards Dougie.

“What?! But he’s my companion! My plus one!”

“He’s not security cleared,” the guard said. “And the Prime Minister is very partial to his security.”

The Doctor looked from Dougie and back to the steps to the Prime Minister. Dougie hoped he was trying to think of a way to sneak him in as well –

“OK Dougie, you wait here,” The Doctor said, giving Dougie a reassuring pat on the head. “I’ll be down in a minute, I’m only saying hi!”

And with that, he turned around and disappeared back up the stairs, leaving Dougie slightly stunned, standing in the foyer of the reception.

“What a dick!” he said, folding his arms and sitting down heavily on the steps. Meeting the Prime Minister would have been pretty cool, even if it was for Roman-Disneyland. He pulled his phone out his pocket and checked his messages instead.

_“Miss you Mowgli! Hows the space travel going? – Tom”_

_“FINE”_ he texted back. _“DR DICKWAD JST FKCED OF 2 MEET EMPEROR.”_

Tom replied a few seconds later. Dougie smiled; good old reliable Tom. He always had his phone on him.

_“What?!? He’s left you alone?!?! On a foreign planet?!?!””_

_“NAH JST THE LOBBY. HELL B DOWN SOON. JST A BIT PISSED >:-( HOWS THINGS WIT U GUYZ NEWAYZ?”_

Back on Earth, the official story to explain Dougie’s absence was that McFly were taking a break out the limelight to write the next album and let Tom get married to Giovanna and various other trivial excuses. The Doctor had repeatedly assured Dougie that it wasn’t necessary and he could get him back to the day he’d left so no one would even know he’d gone but Dougie had told him not to bother; after all, what was the point of travelling around the universes in a time machine if you couldn’t tell anyone about it? Of course, the only people who knew where Dougie was were his bandmates but they were the only people he’d want to tell anyway.

_“We’re OK – Marriage planning and all, uhrg. Had emergency yesterday - needed to look at various shades of cream icing for THREE HOURS yesterday for the cake, I kid you not. Don’t forget about the wedding by the way, it’s in two days. Are you still coming?”_

Dougie felt his insides twist in guilt; the problem with time travel was that you tended to forget what the date at home was. Thankfully, Tom was geeky enough to be well aware of this and so texted Dougie frequent reminders of important dates coming up on Earth.

_“OF CRS! I’M 1/3 OF UR BEST MAN! I’LL BE THERE TOM :-)”_

_“Will Dr Dickwad be coming?”_

Dougie snorted; he really loved Tom sometimes.

_“PRBABLY. HE RELY LIKES WEDDINGS. WEVE GT U A RLY AWESOME WEDDING GIFT!!”_

_“You’ve got me a joint present? Will he be coming as your plus one? :P”_

... OK, forget love. Dougie hated Tom. Tom was a dick.

Without thinking, he pushed up his sleeves and started to type his response.

_“FUNNY. UR MUM -”_

“You’re a champion!”

Dougie blinked and looked up; the security guard was staring down at him with a look of awe on his face.

“Sorry, what?” Dougie asked.

“You’re a champion!” the guard repeated. “Your arm... the marks of a warrior! And to be so grandly and largely decorated... you must have won many battles. How far up does it go?”

Dougie shrugged. “All the way up and onto my chest,” he said, gesturing. “Hurt like a bitch to get done!”

The guard nodded, smiling. “You must fight for us.”

Dougie frowned. What?!

“I – err – no thank you. I’m not much of a fighter,” he said.

“No no, you must be, or you wouldn’t bear such trophies!! And the faces of those you have defeated... Such a champion... it would be an honour to watch you fight! Come, you must fight for display in the Coliseum!”

The guard pulled Dougie to his feet, smiling at him like he was being offered a great honour.

“No!” Dougie squeaked. “I’m – I’m retired! I’m like Ghandi now, I’m all passive and non-violent!”

“You must! It is custom! Any warrior who enters our city and makes himself known is setting a challenge!”

He started to drag Dougie towards the exit.

“But I didn’t mean to!”

The guard stopped and stared at Dougie.

“Are you saying that you came to our city completely ignorant to our culture and customs and thus committed the greatest offence to us of all?” the guard asked, suddenly looking very terrifying.

Not for the first time in his life, Dougie wished he was a few inches taller. He felt he’d be less easily intimidated if he was at least the same height as the average male.

“Erm... no?” Dougie said in a very small voice.

“Excellent!” The Guard beamed widely at Dougie. “Come along then! I’ll inform the gladiators!”

~*~*~

“... though I must admit, I do like how you’ve redecorated the place since I was last here,” the Doctor said.

The Prime Minister smiled at sipped at his drink.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you, Doctor?” he asked, offering out the glass. “Straight from the Fountain of Youth, wonderful stuff. It keeps me revitalised for years!”

“Well, yes, when you're part of a species that retains water for several years, you can see why the effects last so long,” the Doctor said with a smile. “Anyway, wonderful chatting, was just saying hello really, got to dash as I’ve left my companion waiting in the lobby!”

The Doctor was halfway towards the door when the sound of a massive gong rang out. It echoed throughout the building and across the city.

“That bell,” said the Doctor slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding creeping up the back of his neck, “It doesn’t still mean the same thing, does it?”

“What, that there’s about to be a fight in the Coliseum? Naturally!” said the Prime Minister gleefully. He stood up and headed towards the door, where the Doctor was still standing.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to stay a bit longer, Doctor?” the Prime Minster asked. “We didn’t have anything scheduled today so it sounds like a new champion has entered the city and made himself known! The fights are always incredibly entertaining, as I’m sure you’ll remember from the last one you saw!”

The Doctor weighed up the likelihood that it wouldn’t be Dougie in the arena, then wondered why he’d even bothered.

“You know what, I think I could stay for a bit,” the Doctor said, forcing a huge smile onto his face.

“Excellent! Shall I send someone to fetch your friend?” the Prime Minister asked, clapping the Doctor on the back.

“No no, don’t worry. I have a feeling he’s probably already there...”

~*~*~

The Doctor was not disappointed. Sitting in the Prime Minister’s VIP box in the Coliseum, he had an excellent view of the arena and the robotic lions running around... and also of Dougie as he was teleported into the arena. Even from the top box, there was no mistaking the look of complete terror on the human’s face.

“I’ve heard great things about this warrior,” said the Prime Minister to the Doctor conversationally. “I mean, just look at his decorations!”

Someone had taken Dougie’s shirt off and ripped his jeans up to his knees, revealing all his tattoos in their glory. Dougie noticeably gulped and clutched a long pole in his hands tightly.

“And his weapon of choice!!” the Prime Minister suddenly laughed. “So inventive!!”

The Doctor stared at the ‘weapon’ Dougie was holding; it was the buttplug he’d bought for Harry.

“Wow,” murmured the Doctor. “I didn’t know it extended.”

Dougie looked up and around at the audience, who for some reason, were chanting “STAR KILLER, STAR KILLER.”

“Why are they saying that?” the Doctor asked.

“The marks on his ankles,” the Prime Minister explained. “Traditionally, warriors decorate their bodies with the image of the men they’ve killed.”

The Doctor groaned. He’d never come across any other race in the entire universe who decorated themselves as pointlessly as humans did. It was interesting but it seriously did cause so many problems.

“Listen, I really hate to do this,” the Doctor said quickly, “But there’s been a bit of a mix up. See, that’s my friend down there and he’s not actually much of a warrior.”

The Prime Minister looked down; Dougie was twirling the buttplug-pole above his head like a baton and doing a few high kicks, purely so he wasn’t standing around like an awkward lemon.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low voice.

“Positive. And I know you’ve got all these traditions and it’s a massive insult, for which I’m truly sorry but... well. Just look at him!!”

“He... does seem a lot smaller than the traditional champion,” the Prime Minister said after a few minutes. “But I can’t just cancel a battle – Doctor, you know our traditions and laws. There would be chaos in the streets. And the people want blood, they’ve been promised a fight.”

The Doctor looked back down at Dougie. He was going to be sending him home in pieces, he could tell.

“Unless...” said the Prime Minister slowly.

“Unless?” The Doctor asked hopefully. Unless was always good!

“Are you married, Doctor?”

The Doctor blinked. “Well, I – yes, but she’s in prison for killing me. And I don't think she's technically met me yet. Long story, don't ask. And anyway, I – I’m not sure you’re my type, Prime Minister!”

“But you have no he-wife?” the Prime Minister asked.

“No,” said the Doctor slowly, not sure he liked where this was going.

“Excellent,” said the Prime Minister, standing up and picking up a microphone. He held his arms out and the entire crowd cheered.

“My city, my people!” the Prime Minster said into the microphone, his voice echoing through the speakers around the arena. “Today, we are honoured to be guested by a very old friend of the city, the Doctor!”

Dougie’s head shot up and he looked up to the Prime Minister’s box, finally seeing the Doctor. Their eyes locked and the Doctor tried desperately to convey to Dougie through a single look that he was so sorry, and that there’d been no other way...

“And so, as a gift to our treasured friend, I offer him this,” the Prime Minister continued. “The hand in marriage of the champion of today’s fight!”

Somewhere, from the bottom of the arena, a tiny voice shrieked out “WHAT??”

Thankfully, it was quickly drowned out by the cheer of the crowd; if there was anything they loved more than a bloody fight, it was a lovely wedding.

“So, to ensure our champion is presented to the Doctor in the best condition, the rules of the fight have been changed slightly; the champion will be determined by who is the first to draw blood.”

Dougie looked visibly relieved. Making someone else bleed should be easy enough... a paper-cut would suffice!

“And so, with that, let us send in our own champion, Lilac!!” the Prime Minister said and the audience erupted with the loudest cheers yet.

There was a flash of green light as the other champion was teleported into the arena.

Amidst the roars, that lone, tiny voice said “ **... FUCK.** ”

Dougie thought he was going to faint. The other champion was about 8-foot tall and built like a professional body builder. He only wore a tiny loin-cloth, revealing that virtually every inch of his lavender skin was covered in inked faces. Worryingly, all of the faces seemed to be screaming in pain.

Lilac approached Dougie with great, booming footsteps, stopping only a few feet away from the bassist. Dougie swallowed and looked up.

“Erm... hi?” he squeaked, giving a little wave.

Lilac leered down at Dougie and grinned back. It wasn’t a very nice smile; it was the smile of someone who was about to beat the living daylights out of him and enjoy it.

“So... we’re just drawing blood, right?” Dougie said. He tried not to sound too hopeful. “Like, this’ll be over in a few seconds!”

“Seconds? No...” said Lilac, that nasty smile never leaving his face. His voice was terrifyingly deep. “Bruises don’t count.”

And with that, he swung his giant fist at Dougie. Luckily, Dougie had the sense to duck.

“And the fight has commenced!!” the Prime Minster’s voice boomed over the screaming crowd. “Our champion has attempted the first move, and how will our visitor retaliate?”

Dougie looked down at the butt-plug pole in his hands, then to the mace club strapped to Lilac’s thigh, and did the only thing that made any sense.

He dropped the butt-plug, turned around and ran.

“Wow! Our Visitor is using the famous move known as ‘The Coward’! It’s a risky strategy, will it pay off? ... and YES, Lilac has begun to give chase!!”

The crowd started to boo. Dougie risked glancing back; Lilac had unstrapped his mace and was now brandishing it above his head.

An idea formed in Dougie’s head.

He switched directions and sprinted across the arena; sure enough, Lilac followed. Dougie started to zig-zag as he ran and as hoped, Lilac was stupid enough to try and follow the path. However, his weight and size meant that he was considerably slower and with each new direction, he staggered slightly.

“Come on,” Dougie spat out, slowing down a bit. He’d need to get Lilac a bit closer if this was going to work...

“And.... yes, I don’t believe it! This is a new technique I’ve never seen before!” the Prime Minister was saying excitedly.

Dougie ran straight towards the arena wall. He could hear Lilac thundering behind him... he was gaining on him... and the wall was getting closer... the crowd had started to scream again...

... and then, right at the last second, Dougie dove to the side, and there was a tremendous crash as Lilac ran straight into the arena wall. He staggered backwards, dazed slightly...

“FINISH HIM!!” the crowd roared.

Dougie scrabbled to his feet and grabbed the butt-plug pole, which was lying in the dust a few feet away. He turned back and ran towards Lilac, took a running jump and –

“HII-YAA!!” he screamed like a tiny Ninja-Banshee, and smashed the pole into Lilac’s face.

Lilac blinked a few times as a trickle of bright red blood ran out his nose.

“We have our winner!!” the Prime Minister yelled, sounding delighted.

Lilac gave a groan and collapsed backwards, unconscious.

~*~*~

“Thanks for the ring,” Dougie said, looking at the ring now on his finger. When he moved his hand, the stone in it caught the light and sparkled lots of colours.

“Don’t mention it,” said the Doctor, his face hidden behind the TARDIS central pillar as he set in the coordinates to Earth.

“Why, you embarrassed to call me your he-wife?” Dougie asked with a grin.

“No, I mean it – don’t mention it. Ever. To anyone,” said the Doctor. “River would kill me... or really like the idea of a third person in the marriage.”

Dougie laughed and leaned back in the pilot’s chair, sticking his feet up on the console. The Doctor rolled his eyes and pulled up a lever.

“You know you could have avoided all of that palaver in the arena instantly,” the Doctor said. “All you had to do was draw blood. You could have bitten your own lip and lost; it’s not like they would have killed the loser!”

Dougie sat bolt upright. “Are you serious?!”

“Yup.”

Dougie stared at the Doctor for a few seconds in disbelief. The sounds of the TARDIS whirred in the background softly.

“Nah, my way was better,” Dougie said eventually, settling back down. “You know... coz if I’d lost, you’d have ended up married to that great purple lummox!”

The Doctor paused, his hand hesitated momentarily over the button he was going to press.

“I mean seriously,” Dougie continued, “You wouldn’t have had half the fun on the wedding night as we di-”

“What did I say about not mentioning it ever again!?” the Doctor said loudly, slamming his hand down on the button.

Dougie giggled.

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be getting changed?!” The Doctor asked. “We’ve got a wedding to go to! It’s your friend Tom’s, right?”

“You remembered!” Dougie said, unable to keep the surprise out his voice.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Your faith in me is astounding.”

Dougie stared at the Doctor with a strange, small smile on his face. The Doctor waited for him to say something but instead, all he said was “Heh, cool.”

“Right,” said the Doctor, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under Dougie’s gaze.

Dougie chuckled and gave his head a small shake. He swung his legs down to the ground, standing up.

“So,” Dougie said with a smirk, “this wedding. There’s going to be a lot of people I know there who’ll have never met you before. What do I introduce you as? My plus one? My friend? My husban-”

“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor said firmly. “And let’s leave it at that.”


End file.
